


Violent Tendencies

by darkling2222



Category: Split (2016), Split - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, NSFW, Romance, Slow Burn, did, romantic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 14:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10026596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkling2222/pseuds/darkling2222
Summary: His heart is in the right place.





	1. White Knight// Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> For a story entitled "Violent Tendencies" things go pretty well and really aren't that bad because I'm a softie who doesn't want things to get any worst for Kevin and Co. I remember Dr. Fletcher saying that Dennis had "violent tendencies" so I thought I'd talk about it. :)
> 
> Also, I'm a hillbilly who has only been on a subway twice in their life and I'm pretty sure this isn't really how they work? I apologise in advance to the more subway literate for my ignorance :P

Barry steps into the subway car, it’s late and the line from the zoo is rarely used past 10:00PM. There are only two other people in the car, a man in a suit and a young girl. The scene he walks in on is so unexpected that at first only pieces of the puzzle register in his mind. The pattern of cornflowers over her skirt, the reeking smell of beer, the sharp tension in the air. 

The moment snaps suddenly into clarity, the man has her pinned against the wall, hands against the window of the car with her trapped between.

“Please stop, I’m not interested, please…” the girl is begging, fear making her voice quiet and plaintive. She stands frozen in place as the man sways drunkenly in front of her, staring blearily at her like she was a piece of meat. “Please…” she says again, trying to pull away but he just pushes closer, forcing his body against hers and she whimpers.

“Shh, shh…” the man hushes loudly, cutting her off, so near that he speckles her face with spit. Barry barely has time to realize what he’s seeing before he is swept out of the light. Dennis is in control now, his trigger is generalized, even danger not directed at the System can bring him to the forefront. He wastes no time taking the man by the collar and dragging him off the girl. 

“Hey-!” the man in the suit can barely say that much before Dennis hauls back and punches him squarely in the nose. He remembers suddenly that he’s not used to punching people when he feels the explosion of force coming close to shattering his hand. But, despite the pain, violence comes easily and it feels better then he’d like to admit. It feels like some sort of retrograde vengeance, smashing this scum into nothing is as close as he can get to destroying who he really wants to hurt. 

The man drops limp to the ground, nose almost certainly broken and spurting bright blood all over the floor. Dennis is careful to avoid the stain but keeps hold of his collar, keeping the man in position as he pulls back for another punch when he feels a hand on his arm. He whips around, snarl on his lips, ready to face another attacker. It’s the girl in the cornflower dress, eyes wide and shocked as she looks up at her rescuer.

“Careful, if you hit him again you may kill him.” her words are rushed and frightened. He considers it a moment and he lets the man drop like a stone onto the dirty bus floor, moaning and clutching his face. The man can barely do more than lay there, too drunk for anything else, threat eliminated. 

The intensity of the moment has burned out but there’s still a feeling of unreality, like they’re still standing in the smoke. 

Dennis holds his injured hand up in front of his face, his knuckles throbbing. He studies it with a certain vacant detachment, as if it wasn’t his own. He curls his fingers into a fist and releases them, feeling the bruises that he knows from experience are starting to form. She holds on gently on his arm, watching him as if hypnotized. 

“Are you alright?” her voice is soft but it’s enough to break him back into reality. 

“Yes, I’m okay.” he turns to her and sees her gaze slide down to the drunk still writhing on the ground, eyes going wide and scared. He can feel her hand start to shake. 

“He won’t hurt you.” He turns to block her view of him and his voice is sure, he will protect her. She smiles, looking up at him with pure gratitude, edging on adoration.

“Thank you.” her voice barely a whisper but the feeling is clear. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Y-you’re welcome.” He doesn’t mean to stutter but she’s smiling at him and he is wholly unused to this degree of attention. She comes back to herself all at once, remembering suddenly that they’re both strangers on the subway and she shouldn’t be hanging onto his arm. She steps back, a blush blossoming over her cheeks as she smooths down her skirt and hair, trying to bring some amount of normality back to the situation. 

“Here,” she fumbles a pen out of her purse and tears a scrap of paper out of a notebook and hastily scratches down some numbers, “This is my number, text me and maybe I can buy you lunch or something.” She holds out the piece of paper to him, a reward for chivalry that he takes it with a shyness that is in odd contrast to the fact that he’d just broken a man’s nose. The subway squeals to a stop and she steps toward the door.

“I need to go,” she glances over at the man on the ground again whose moans have died into whimpers, “You may want to leave too.” He nods, he still feels somewhat removes from himself, drained. He can feel Barry pressing for control again to deal with the fallout. She smiles again, expression soft and gentle, laying her hand on his shoulder again. 

“Thank you.” He nods again in answer and she steps off the platform. He watches her leave, shoes clicking softly on the concrete, dark hair and cornflower dress disappearing into the station. He pulls his yellow handkerchief from his pocket and carefully folds the scrap of paper into it before finally handing control back to Barry. 

Barry steps off the train, cursing softly and rubbing his busted hand, scolding under his breath. _Dammit Dennis, you could have gotten us killed! Why do you always insist on being some kind of white knight?_

The answer is brief and gruff, _it was the right thing to do._


	2. A Good Hello// Coffee Date with Dennis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His heart is in the right place.  
> (Chapter 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed my mind and continued this one! Please kudos and comment if you like it! :D

It’s an old neighborhood with brownstones and quaint little shops. The street is quiet in the middle of the day. A few mothers dragging children at their side and an elderly couple is out shopping. The whole block is peaceful but Dennis is a mess of nerves. He’s on his way to the most unlikely of things: a date. 

Or, more precisely, the others wouldn’t let him _not_ go on a date. All 22 had found the story of the subway rescue fascinating. Dennis, their protector, going out to save a damsel in distress just like in a fairy tale. They crowded around him asking a thousand questions and voicing a thousand opinions. Jade thought it was all terribly romantic, fawning over Dennis for information which he gave begrudgingly and only after a great deal of cajoling. Hedwig tugged at the hem of his shirt asking to hear the story again and again. Even cunning Patricia, usually such a loner, had smiled at him approvingly.

Dennis himself found all the attention somewhat embarrassing, he’s not really one for the spotlight.

They all decide unanimously to contact her and Dennis knows he wouldn’t live it down if he doesn’t. But it’s not that he didn’t want to talk to her anyway. He would rather like to see her, she seemed very sweet. Dennis doesn’t have many people to talk to outside of the System (the exact number being zero) so a friendly chat, or more ambitiously a date, would be a nice change of pace. What he does somewhat resent is having his love life dictated by committee. 

Initial contact is a group effort with Jade enlisting Barry’s help to intricately plan each text they send her with Dennis hovering over with veto power. He wanted to text her himself but Jade said in no uncertain terms that she was going to be doing it. She was going to get him on a date with subway girl if it killed her and she didn’t need Dennis messing it up. Hedwig does his part by periodically interjecting completely unworkable ideas and getting promptly shushed. 

And to Jade’s credit, he’s on his way to the coffeeshop that Jade had suggested. He feels his nervousness growing with every step, it seems silly to be this shaky about just meeting a girl for coffee but a thousand anxieties run circles through his thoughts, getting faster and louder the closer he gets. 

He reaches the end of the street and the little coffee place is there, tucked away on the corner with large windows and flower boxes holding violets.

He steps inside and scans the shop for the girl on the subway and he sees her in the corner. She’s wearing another sundress, this time a scatter of pale cherry blossoms across the hem. Dennis notes idly that Barry must be rubbing off on him to be noticing fashion details. He hadn’t gotten much of a chance to really look at her last time they met so he lingers in the doorway.

She stares out the window and watches the bustle of the street, looking on a whole dainty and demure with soft brown eyes and dark hair tied in a tidy braid down her back. But her profile strengthened by sharp eyebrows and a long aquiline nose. She holds a cup of coffee in front of her absently with long, graceful fingers. 

He continues to stand awkwardly in the threshold of the shop even as people elbow by him, weighing his options. This is his last chance to leave, avoid this interaction altogether but he takes a deep breath and musters his courage, walking her way. He gets to her table and stands there for an uncomfortable moment, trying to think of what to say.

“Hi.” It’s all he can manage and he already kicks himself for not thinking of anything else. She looks up and sees him and a million panicked thoughts run through his head. _What if she doesn’t recognize him? What if she doesn’t want to talk to him? What if-_ he’s cut off by her smiling a bright smile. 

“Dennis?” she asks and he nods slightly. She stands and offers her hand. “I’m so sorry I didn’t give you my name before, I’m Amelia.” He takes her hand and it’s soft against his. “Would you like me to get you something?” she asks, gesturing to the café menu. The touch of her hand is nearly enough to render him insensible but he manages to stutter out.

“I-I’m fine, thank you though…” he scuffles his feet slightly on the floor, carefully avoiding any eye contact. 

“Oh, I need to get you _something._ ” Her tone is warm, smiling. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Um, just black.” Feeling this cowed is as unusual as it is uncomfortable. He has so little experience talking to people, let alone girls. She smiles again. 

“Lovely,” she steps around him and orders at the counter. He stands by the table, unsure of what to do. She returns in a moment with a large cup of coffee and sits back in her seat.

“You can sit… if you’d like?” Her voice is a bit unsure and he nods, blushing, awkwardly taking a seat across from her. He kicks himself for not just sitting, another wave of social anxiety hitting him like a ton of bricks. Socializing has never been a strong suit and it shows. 

The napkins in the wire holder are out of place and he adjusts them each individually. Her eyes follow the movement of his hands as they sit in silence for a moment before she continues. 

“I should really thank you again for helping me on the subway. What you did was really amazing.” Her praise makes him blush, stuttering. 

“Y-yes, you’re welcome.” He can hardly string together a sentence, only looking at her from the corner of his eye.

“No need to be nervous, I don’t bite.” She laughs a little at her own joke but he blushes brighter, ears going red. He moves on from the napkins to sorting the sugar packets by color and she can see the nervous tension in the ritual. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, you know…” he breaks off clumsily and for all his strength, she can tell quickly that he’s something of an awkward little thing, flustered and anxious by any degree of social interaction. She smiles again, voice calm. 

“It’s alright, you’re fine.” She takes a sip of coffee again, just basic conversation seems to put him on edge so she is careful to be kind as they talk, keeping her voice from getting too loud or sharp, no teasing. “So, where do you work?”

He blusters an answer about the zoo and things continue shakily with stuttered answers and obsessive straightening of the napkin holder. But once he gets through a few minutes of brutal awkwardness, putting together a cognizant sentence gets easier and some of the anxiety seems to subside. She tells stories of silly drama with her Brooklyn parents (they had found out she hadn’t been going to temple with the regularity that she had used to and this was cause for _great_ concern) and the mind-numbing horror that is her data entry job. She asks questions about his job and listens attentively about what he tells her about the zoo and what very little he mentions about his childhood in Boston. 

Amelia does find him charming, in a gruff sort of way. Even his shyness is kind of endearing, had she not seen it with her own eyes she never would have thought that Dennis could ever punch a guy out. He also seems so very appreciative of that she would be talking to him at all and that’s sweet. And he’s awfully handsome, with such pretty blue eyes. She makes up her mind to go home with him. It’s an easy decision, she’s no stranger to casual sex and it’s been awhile since she’s had a good lay. She does rather hope he’s not a virgin though, that could complicate things. People tend to have a lot of hang ups about their first time. 

“Wow, you live at the zoo?” she asks after he mentions it in passing. He nods, smiling a little at her interest. It’s not often that anyone shows much interest in him. 

“Yes.”

“Gosh, that’d be cool to see.” She pauses just a moment, voice going a bit lower and softer as she continues. “Maybe you could show me?” Her flirting is overt enough at this point that even Dennis, not one for recognizing social cues, picks up on it. 

“Really?” the word tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop himself, completely aghast at such an invitation. Although, in truth, he doesn’t entirely think through the full implications of her offer. The idea of that Amelia, or anyone, would want to have sex with him is so beyond the realms of conceivable reality that he doesn’t even think of it. He’s floored by the thought that she would be interested in seeing his house. 

She laughs a little at his surprise, taking his hand in hers. 

“Of course, really.” she answers with a grin and teasing matter-of-factness. She stands, still hand and hand and waiting for him to follow. “Isn’t the zoo right up the block?”

“Yes, up eighth.” He stands and he can feel her skirt brushing his pantleg as they walk close together, side by side, hand in hand, up eighth street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m very proud of my sex-positive, eagle-nosed Jewish girl. I want to be her when I grow up and also, she’s cute!
> 
> Stay tuned for more!


	3. A Bump in the Road// Meeting Hedwig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His heart is in the right place.  
> (Chapter 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Sarita and her great story Origins in which some of this chapter was inspired.

When Dennis said that he lived at the zoo she hadn’t thought that he would live underground. It’s a strange rabbit warren full of odd clutter and random doors. There is a part of her that finds this a little worrying, violence on the subway, awkward around women, creepy house. There are more than a few serial killer markers. But he’s still so shy and stammering as he shows her the house that it’s hard to see him as a threat. He apologizes several times about the mess but to her everything is spotless and she assures him it’s fine, everything is fine. 

“I’d love to see your room.” Amelia suggests more then says, taking his hand again and he leads her down the back of a long hallway. 

When they get there, she sits on the side of his bed, the skirt of her cherry blossom dress spreading over the blue bedspread as she looks around the room. Everything is perfectly in place, not a stain or spot of dust anywhere. Dennis stands awkwardly by a few feet away and even in his own house she has to invite him to sit with her. He blushes again and nervously sits down next to her, “Want to make out?” she asks, it’s a blunt ask but he still seems shocked that she is even speaking with him and she’s afraid that anything more subtle might not get through to him. He nods, wide eyed and stock still. She smiles, pressing closer, her lips against his. 

He’s not a very good kisser and she hopes against hope that this isn’t his first kiss. It’s always a bit nerve-wracking to be someone’s first anything because they’re always going to remember you. But Dennis is a fast learner and when he shyly tries using tongue for the first time she presses closer to him encouragingly. His shyness is sweet and he wraps his arms protectively around her, almost desperately. Like he needs her and she may disappear at any moment if he didn’t hold onto her. 

He breaks the kiss suddenly and she braces herself for the just-wanted-to-let-you-know-I’m-a-virgin speech which is invariably awkward. But instead he just stares at her blankly for a fraction of a second, still nose to nose, before he pulls sharply away from her.

“What are you doin???” he asks, breaking into a goofy grin. His voice is suddenly lisping and childish. Amelia smiles, tries to keep composure despite this somewhat odd turn. Maybe she’s just imaging the change?

“Kissing you.” She answers, teasingly, pressing her hand to the side of his face and resuming their kiss, lips pressed to his but he wiggles away from her again. 

“No, silly! Kissing there will get you pregnant!” her brows furrow worriedly at this grievous misinformation. He doesn’t sound anything like he had before.

“Are you alright?” she asks, trying to be polite. 

“Yeah, I’m fine!” he answers, wiggling close again and smiling happily up at her as he rests his head on her shoulder. He doesn’t look at all like a man trying to seduce her, more like a little kid. And, moreover, his answer that he’s fine doesn’t necessarily make it the truth. She strokes her hand over his buzzed hair unable to keep the worried look off her face. He giggles at the touch, oblivious to her mood.

“You’re acting kind of strange, Dennis.” She broaches the subject as diplomatically as possible and he cocks his head, looking at her quizzically. 

“I’m not Dennis? I’m Hedwig!” He hadn’t said anything about being named Hedwig. She’s reasonably sure that that isn’t even a boy’s name.

“Hedwig?” He nods his head emphatically in answer. 

“Yeah! I have red socks!” 

“That’s… cool?” Amelia answers, not able to think of anything better to say to that. “I thought you said your name was Dennis?”

“No, I’m Hedwig! Dennis left.” Her eyebrows come close to hitting her hairline at this riddle of an answer. How could Dennis leave?

“Dennis left?” he rolls his eyes like she must be awfully dense to be asking him these sorts of questions. 

“Duh? We look totally different?” he reaches out and rubs the fabric of her shirt between his fingers. “Dennis is like really tall and old. I’m nine.” 

“You’re nine?” she asks, almost yelling. He nods, unfazed, now too preoccupied with rolling his socks up and down his ankle to notice any change in her. 

“Yup! I’m almost ten though.” He explains, sitting up straight and smug with a proud wiggle at the idea of being almost ten. Her expression darkens. 

“God, this better not be some kind of weird sex thing.” She answers angrily, pointing an accusing finger at him. this is too much, she’s not hanging around for this. His eyes go wide at her sudden anger.

“N-no…” his voice quivers, shrinking away from her, frightened. 

“I can’t believe I even came out here, this was crazy. I need to leave right now.” She gets up, grabbing her purse off the floor in a huff. Tears well up in his eyes, the child is shocked and scared of her sudden change. Hedwig has no idea why she’s angry. 

“What?” he whispers, sniffling. She looks back and sees tears falling hot down his cheeks.

“Oh, honey…” it’s not what she had wanted to say and Amelia certainly doesn’t intend to sympathize but now he’s crying all of a sudden. And she’s a sucker for tears, even in this abject strangeness she can’t stand anyone crying. She’s torn between how weird this all is and a natural instinct to help someone scared. He had saved her on the subway after all, she couldn’t just leave him here sobbing away. “It’s okay.” she manages a little shyly, sitting down on the side of the bed again but he shrinks away from her. He looks genuinely pathetic sitting there. It certainly doesn’t seem like a sex thing now. 

“A-are you going to hit me?” he asks anxiously. She shakes her head, pitching her voice soft and calm. 

“No, no honey, I wouldn’t hit you, it’s okay.” he watches her nervously. The subway lady doesn’t look so mad anymore. 

“Why did you yell at me?” he wipes his nose on his shirt sleeves, scrubbing the tears off his cheeks with the flat of his hand.

“I’m sorry, I was just… startled is all. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” He nods.

“Yelling is not nice.” He answers sternly, scolding her a moment before smiling brightly again, “But I forgive you!” he throws his arms around her in an excited hug. Amelia has to stop herself from jerking away from him, this is still a little too bizarre for her to be comfortable with. 

“Okay, honey, that’s good, we’re good.” She manages to timidly hug him back and he holds onto her for a few beats longer then a normal hug and she wiggles out of his grasp. “Okay.” she starts, taking a deep breath and gathering her thoughts before she continues, playing along with this fever dream of a hook-up. “Hedwig, can I talk to Dennis again? Please?”

Hedwig lolls his head and rolls his eyes childishly. “Ooooookay, I guess you can talk to Mr. Dennis.” He answers reluctantly. A moment of blank expression crosses his face and suddenly deep tension lines return to his forehead, back straightening. The change is stark and sudden, Hedwig and Dennis did genuinely look like different people. He blinks, looking confused. She pulls back from him a little and he reads the worry all over her face, heart dropping as he realized he must have lost time, must have switched. 

“I’m sorry, what happened?” The lisp is gone and back is the heavy Bostonian accent. There’s a moment of silence as she tries to describe what had just happened. 

“Um, Hedwig was here?” it’s the best explanation she can come up with but he seems to understand, sighing heavily and rubbing the bridge of his nose, embarrassed. His knuckles curl into fists, the picture of suppressed frustration. Dennis wants to sink into the floor, why did Hedwig have to be the one to come out?

“I’m very sorry about what happened. You should go.” the apology is stiff and clunky and offers no explanation. His dismal of her is so awkward that it’s rude but Amelia barely notices, just thankful for the excuse to bolt.

“O-okay. Thank you for coffee.” The politeness is a knee jerk reaction to any uncomfortable situation as she quickly gathers her things. She doesn’t waste any time getting out of the room, nearly running out into the hallway. 

Dennis sits on the edge of the bed, listening to the door slam shut behind her and he sighs. He should have expected this, shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.

Barry’s voice comes quiet across his consciousness, regretful. The watchful eye that had been monitoring the situation from the start but hadn't been able to fix it. 

_I’m sorry Dennis…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Dennis! My guy just can’t catch a break!  
> I’m not sure what I’m going to have happen next but I would love to hear any ideas so comment with anything you’d like to see. (Although, I get such a kick out of writing Hedwig that I might scrap the romance arc and just have Amelia and Hedwig go on fun adventures! XD)


	4. Let's Try Again// Second Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His heart is in the right place.

The members of the system all confront this failure of social interaction with resigned acceptance. This isn't the first time that a potential friendship had been botched by a random switch at the wrong time but it's still painful. Barry makes an anemic attempt to see the silver lining. _We all make mistakes, it'll be better next time._ Mistake or otherwise, Hedwig is still scolded to tears by Jade and Dennis who both immediately regret making the child cry. Hedwig runs to Patricia for comfort and she strokes his hair and tells him it’s okay, she’s not mad at him, not like how the others are, she’s the only one who actually likes him. Once he calms down, Patricia turns back to quietly observing the rest of the group as she always does, calculating.

And then the phone buzzes. A text, from Amelia. It's such a shock that Barry hardly believes it at first. It's just a simple hi but even that is so unlikely that it doesn't seem real and there's a part of him that just wants to ignore it. It seems so unfair to open everyone up to even more pain since it's so likely that they'll fail again. But he turns over the information to the rest anyway. Maybe this will be the better next time.

Jade and Dennis make for an odd pair, huddled over the phone. This little text is a miracle of second chances and Jade is optimistic that this text is enough to salvage the whole situation. They can fix this mess and they'll have a friend. The conversational strategizing kicks into high gear. 

On the other end of the line, things were less dramatic. Amelia is curled up on her bed and she regrets the impulse of the text immediately. The only reason she texted at all was because the whole debacle, in a way, was tragic. It was weird and uncomfortable and tremendously bizarre but the line "are you going to hit me?" sticks in her mind. And she also remembers how embarrassed Dennis had been after. She didn't get the impression that had happened on purpose or manipulatively. In short, this attempt at contact was motivated by pity more then anything else.

She hesitantly agrees to meet at the same coffee shop next week at their behest. 

Next week comes quickly and Amelia doesn't know what to expect from this meeting. Her mind picks over what little information she has about him to try to guess how the night will go but nothing fits together in a sensible way as she orders a mocha at the counter. She sits, perched on an large oversized chair, careful to position herself in the line of sight of the barista. Amelia wants to be near help if things get dangerous. She intends to reserve the right to leave at any time, she doesn't owe him anything.

She curls her legs up under her, hearing the door of the café ringing and turning to see Dennis. A rush of nervousness breaks her out of her thoughts. He looks different, no buttoned shirts, no heavy browed worry on his expression. He looks sort of like a hipster, slouchy jeans and grey beanie. Barry smiles at her with a little wave as he sits across from her in an identical chair. He crosses his legs, foot bobbing, the movement of his hands is fluid and graceful. Nothing like how he had been last time.

Barry takes note of her outfit with nearly the same scrutiny that she regards his. She's wearing a dark turtleneck and winged eyes, even her outfit is defensive, battle gear. He's not surprised though, he would have been defensive too. It's a miracle she wanted to see them at all. He had been enlisted to speak with her since this meeting would require a degree of social finesse that they really couldn't trust Dennis to have.

"Hello!" he greets and she notes the mix of accent and lisp but he doesn't really sound like Dennis and he doesn't sound like Hedwig.

He sees her expression change as she recognizes this new incongruity. She looks unsure of him, on high alert, suspicious. But she politely smiles back with a nod.

"Hello, Dennis."

"Oh, sorry. I'm Barry." Her careful politeness veers sharply into restrained anger. Barry can sympathize, this all can be very confusing and it must seem like they're playing some joke on her.

"You're Barry? Okay, not to be too blunt, but what the _hell_ is going on? What do you mean you're Barry?" She places a certain venom on his name on particular. You're _Barry_? What do you mean you're _Barry?_

"Okay, I can explain..." He takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. "I've never really explained this to anyone before." He continues somewhat bashfully, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. She leans back in the chair, watching Barry (or whoever this is) collecting himself, ready to see what the explanation possibly could be.

"I, or, well, really it's we, but I'll just say I for simplicity. I have DID." The words are rushed as if he didn't get them out immediately then he wouldn't be able to say it at all. He talks with his hands, trying to explain.

"DID?" she answers incredulously.

"It's short for Dissociative Identity Disorder. It's ummm, a dissociative disorder that is characterized by at least two separate personality states." It's a clinical definition he has memorized for this situation and she takes a moment to take this in. Barry can see the wheels of her mind turning and the moment of suspense is nailbiting.

"Do you mean like... multiple personalities? Like, _Psycho_?" Her eyes are the size of dinner plates and Barry cringes with an embarrassed smile.

"No, no, not like Psycho. But, yeah, DID used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder. It's not like Psycho though, we don't kill people or anything."

"So... You and Dennis are different people? And Hedwig?"

"Yeah, we're totally different. We don't really have shared memories or anything." Even in the craziness of this new information, she notes the nervous verbal tick of "or anything" that he tacks onto the end of sentences. "We just happen to share the same body. Me and Dennis and Barry are all alters."

"Alters?" She asks, the terminology is foreign. His fingers tap the arm of the chair, it's a term that is so second nature to him that it's difficult to define it to someone who knows nothing about it.

"We're all the people that aren't the original? I guess? Again, sorry, I've never explained this to anyone before."

"Who is the original?" Amelia recognizes that she's practically interrogating him over all this but the idea that he really has multiple personality is so beyond the realm of possibility that she can't help but grill him over it, to try to understand.

"His name is Kevin but he doesn't come out very often." It's very much an understatement, Kevin hasn't been out in years but it seems weird to mention that.

"So, you and Dennis and Hedwig, aren't actually real?" He cringes again. Barry has to brace himself against some of these questions, the comparison to Psycho and the accusation that they're not real, is hurtful. He has to remind himself that she's not really trying to hurt them, she doesn't know any better.

"We're as real as you are." He can't keep a certain edge of defensiveness out of his voice. For all his friendliness and for her politeness, they don't trust each other any further then they can throw one another. There's a quivering moment of silence where he watches her, her eyebrows knit together and deep in thought. He knows she's deciding whether or not to leave, whether this is too crazy to put up with. Barry knows that this is an important moment, this is the make or break point. She looks up at him and smiles slightly. She's apologetic now, tone softer.

"Sorry, this is all kind of wild..." He answers with his own apology, an olive branch.

"It's okay. I'm sorry about before, about Hedwig. He can be a little erratic..."

"Is it, is it just the three of you?"

"No... There are 22 alters."

"22?" Her eyebrows raise, "That's a lot of people in one head." Barry smiles, in a way her phrasing is a promising sign. It sounds as if she at least believes him about having DID and that's something. A lot of people reject the diagnosis outright.

"I brought some sketches, if you're interested? Most of us don't really look like Kevin." She nods and Barry pulls out a manila folder out of his bag. He pulls his chair up close to hers and carefully places the papers on the armrests of their chair. He's very careful not to wrinkle or crumple the papers and she tries to handle them with the same care. The sketches are of various people, they're all drawn in a sort of fashion designer style with exaggerated legs and arms and in bright color pencil. Although stylized, they're very good. She can see everyone's personality come through 

"Did you do these? They're lovely." there's a smile in her voice and her praise sounds genuine.

"I did! Thank you." Any hostility is gone and he glows at her praise. "Here is everyone you've met so far." He starts, pointing at the first page. "That's Dennis." Amelia doesn't really need the direction since all the drawings are all meticulously labeled with names and ages. Dennis is a tall, serious looking man with close-shaved hair and an almost military carriage, _Dennis, 30._ He doesn't look unlike the body he inhibits but maybe slightly older. Below that is a little kid with a mess of curly hair and a gap-toothed smile. The label says, _Hedwig, 9._ She laughs slightly.

"Is that Hedwig? He's a cutie."

"I'm so sorry about him, he wanted to meet you."

"It's alright, I'm sorry I frightened him. At the time it was a bit of a shock... Is that you?" She changes the subject abruptly, noticing the third sketch of a thin guy with similar curls as Hedwig but styled in a fashionable undercut and a friendly smile. _Barry, 22._

"Yeah,"

"Neat, neat." She nods bobbingly, it requires some effort to take this all in stride but she tries to accept this the best she can. Barry holds his breath as he turns the page, it's Orwell, Jade and Patricia on this page. The fact that there are women in the system may come off particularly weird to her and he worries. Her eyes widen at the skirts and high heels.

"Oh," There is a lot of meaning in the tiny oh.

"We're about a 50/50 split of men and women." He explains, trying to move past this as fast as possible.

"Why is this-" she starts and then rephrases, "How did you get DID?" He shifts uncomfortably again, explaining DID is a mess of uncomfortable situations and this is one of them.

"Well, it's kind of hard to explain but we've had it since we were really little and it happens because our identity didn't really integrate the way most people's do."

"But why?" She presses the issue and he evades.

"We all serve a purpose which are usually just facets of someone's personality but we consciously represent them." Dr. Fletcher has used these exact terms before in her papers and Barry parrots them. "I serve a social function which is why I came to explain this all to you. And Dennis is our protector, he keeps us safe. And sometimes other people." He says with a smile, harkening back to the time on the subway. 

"But, why would anyone's identity integrate like that?" She's not giving him any way out of it.

"Well, severe childhood abuse is the usual reason." He gives the answer as casually as he can and he can feel her cringe and recoil although not so much from him but her own embarrassment.

"I'm sorry." her voice is soft again.

"It's okay." he answers brushing it off with a shrug. Her initial thought was right, this was the result and continuation of some great tragedy. He turns back to the pages, pointing at the top person _Orwell, 55._

"That's Orwell, he's sort of our resident intellectual. He's an expert on Mohamed or something but he's had papers published on it." She nods, he has the disheveled look of an absent-minded professor with greying hair and a frumpy sweater. She's more curious about the women. "Who's that?" The one she points at is a pretty dark-skin girl with curly hair pulled back in a pony-tail, a bright pink skirt and a tongue stuck out cheekily. She's the second youngest thus far, just 16.

"That's Jade, she's a firecracker but she's real sweet kid." There's a certain brotherly affection in his voice about Jade.

"So, you guys know each other?"

"Yeah, we do. We all know each other." She almost wants to grill him about how this is possible when only one person could inhabit the body at the same time. Or could they? But, either way, everything is so complicated as it is that she really doesn't need extra confusion so she just tries to accept it. The woman below Jade has dark hair bobbed at her shoulders and a long skirt and shawl. Her hands are clasped in front of her and she stares confrontationally at the viewer. _Patricia, 25_

"Patricia is the one in the shawl." His tone now is in sharp contrasts with talking about Jade. Amelia does not get the impression that Barry and Patricia get along. Amelia can't tell how much Barry's personal preferences affect the pictures, Patricia looks strange and severe with a cold expression and is in sharp contrast to bubbly, pink Jade. 

They go through the rest of the pages, 22 is a lot of people to go through and she fires off question after question about the group and about the disorder and about Barry himself. He is evaluating her as much she's evaluating him. She seems very normal, a run of the mill good person. He appreciates that she tries to be kind to him even through the healthy amount of distrusts that she meets this disorder with. 

"Is Hedwig okay?" She asks again. The line: _are you going to hit me?_ is even more painful paired with the phrase: _severe childhood abuse._ Barry appreciates the concern. Other then Dr. Fletcher, no one ever really worries about them.

"Oh, he was fine, don't worry about it. He got a good scolding afterwards though." 

"Could, could I talk to Dennis?" she asks, shy to be moving into unfamiliar territory. "Is that a thing?"

"Ah, sure, we can." Barry almost feels like he should step out of the room and come back, it seems bizarre to switch with someone consciously watching. And there are some nerves about it, a smooth transition would be lucky. It's not unusual for things to get a little messy and different alters to come through when they shouldn't. But they try. "Okay, give me just a second." There's a moment of blankness on his expression and then a smile.

"Hello, dear." She pulls back very slightly, this isn't Dennis. Or at the very least, not at all how she remembers him. This voice is higher and very slightly British, almost feminine and Amelia wonders if this is one of the women. This newcomer looks her up and down. "Aren't you a pretty thing?" Her voice is sweet but there's something predatory in her gaze.

"Thank you." Amelia answers, watching her closely, running through the brief introduction she had of each personality but she doesn't know enough to nail down a particular person. There's another change in expression and his forehead knits, posture straightening.

"Hello, Amelia." This greeting is a great deal more formal, heavy and Bostonian. She smiles despite the odd interlude between Barry and Dennis. She can't put it past that the one calling her pretty was still Barry. The new voice wasn't dissimilar to Barry's and she chocks it up to some irregularity of a disorder that she knows nothing about.

"Hello, Dennis. How are you?"

"I'm sorry about Hedwig." That's not a direct answer to her question but it's still an answer, how he's doing is that he's still sorry about Hedwig.

"It's alright, no need to apologize."

"No, it was careless." She can see the regret on his face, for such a precise person a mistake like Hedwig coming through (even once she has accepted his apology) is still a serious matter. She pulls her face to a teasing seriousness, barely hiding a smile.

"Well, it was pretty serious, I think you'll have to do something for me before we're square." Dennis narrows his eyes slightly, detecting a joke but not yet trusting it enough to smile back. "How about you buy me coffee and I'll forget all about it?" He smiles at to her now, it's safe to share a joke now, she was only kidding. She laughs, more in trimphant at getting him to smile then the actual humor.

"Alright, what do you want?" He stands and she almost makes him sit, not really wanting coffee but it almost seems kinder to just let him make amends.

"I'll take a caramel mocha please."

He comes back with a large coffee, he bought her the largest one possible and she smiles at the gesture, he's still so awkwardly endearing. This is honestly more convincing then what Barry had told her. There's not much doubt in her mind that if she had told him that she would accept his apology only if he transferred his life savings to her, he would give her his bank number without question.

They sit and talk, letting the conversation drift into boring day-to-day talk. Boring stuff about their respective jobs and hobbies, nothing as heavy as alters and abuse. Over coffee, she decides with finality to accept what he's told her, that he has DID and that he really does have 22 personalities. They're square.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It worked out! You all may have noticed that I subscribe to a softer, smoller Hedwig then canon Hedwig and also, Barry is a cute twink who's doing the best he can. Plus, Patricia gets a cameo! (although who knows what she's up to? She's so fricken shady) Thanks for reading guys!


	5. A Kind Interlude// Nothing Much Happens This Chapter

She recognizes that Dennis is too shy to invite her on his own so she mentions in passing "oh, I'll be in the neighborhood, do you mind if I come over?" He always accepts her offer and it soon becomes ritual for her to come over weekly. The System has an informal schedule for who gets the light when and Dennis takes Sunday afternoons which is when she comes over for tea. 

The invitation is for tea but mostly she watches him do household repairs, changing out light bulbs and tinkering with appliances. It's a common scene to for her to sit perched on the kitchen counter as he takes apart the garbage disposal. They talk about everything under the sun and he teaches her little things about handy-work. She is always impressed with his depth of knowledge, he seems to know how everything works just on instinct. He always thanks her for the help but she doesn't do anything more then occasionally hand him tools.

Once the afternoon sinks into the evening she gets ready to go back to her apartment downtown and he always offers to escort her, saying that the city is dangerous after dark and she shouldn't be alone, hadn't she learned from the subway? She smiles and promises that she'll be safe. Amelia reminds him with a smile that if she hadn't taken the subway then wouldn't have met him, remember? She always makes a point to hug him goodbye before she leaves.

She falls into friendship easily with Dennis but Amelia gets to know the rest of the system slowly and it's not without slip ups. She accepts them the best she can but the sheer strangeness of the affair means that there are roadblocks that can test her social grace. Like when she comes by the house by surprise with some banana bread and meets Jade for the first time. Who comes to the door in a hot pink skirt and top, glittery lip gloss on and a curly wig. Amelia drops the banana bread at the surprise of the thing. They both share a lengthy moment of mutual shock and embarrassment as the bread sits half crushed on the doorstep between them.

"I-I'm sorry, are you Jade?" Amelia stutters, smoothing her hair down nervously and Jade mimics the movement with the same nervousness and cringes at the reminder of the wig. The reminder that she is in a man's body is an ugly rush of dysmorphia and she blushes bright red.

"Yeah, that's me." Jade sounds resigned to it, avoiding eye contact with the other girl. Amelia leans down to pick up the banana bread and Jade braces herself for Amelia to react with, at best, a speedy retreat, or at worst, some cruelty

"I love your shoes." Amelia offers with a still somewhat shaky smile. She's trying her best to take it in stride and Jade smiles back, youthful excitement blooming on her face as she shows off her shiny black boots.

"Thank you! It's such a hassle getting them in my size but these were such a lucky find!" She bobs on her heels gesturing inside, "Do you want to come in?"

"Sure, thank you." After a few awkward minutes they settle down to chat over banana bread. Jade is bright and peppy and more then happy to talk, she gossips over how fond Dennis is of Amelia in the most girlishly sappy terms. Her enthusiasm makes Amelia smile at the teenage soap opera view of she and Dennis's very mundane friendship. Jade also confesses with a glow of pride about the role she herself played in sending the initial texts. Amelia mostly listens, she has recognized that the group has so few people to talk to that they all jump at any opportunity to speak.

Hedwig is a prime example of this, always desperate for attention and affection. She had asked to see him specifically one evening when she's visiting Dennis. She had wanted to apologize in person for frightening him. Hedwig arrives shy and soft-spoken, so unlike his former extroversion. Last time he had talked to her he had gotten in trouble and he's scared to try again. He stares at the floor, careful not to meet her eyes.

"Hello, Hedwig." she keeps her voice quiet and calm, leaning down to try to catch his gaze. "Is that you?" He nods slightly, turning farther away. She lets the silence draw for a moment, giving him a moment to answer but he doesn't. She carefully moves from the couch, sitting on her knees in front of him and seeing him at eye level. "What's wrong, Hedwig?" He looks at her nervously, eyes flickering back and forth like she had him cornered.

"I'm not supposed to talk to you. Dennis and Jade will be mad..." Amelia smiles gently.

"They won't be mad, honey, it's alright." He stays silent and his hands fidget on his lap. She takes his hands in hers, her movement slow and gentle. He looks up at her finally and she smiles again, "I wanted to talk to you and Dennis and Jade said it was just fine, no need to worry."

"Really?" he asks quietly, still shy

"Yes, really." Her voice is kind and sure. She squeezes his hands gently and he smiles back at her finally. "I heard you have a pretty cool room, want to show it to me?" she offers and he brightens up.

"Sure!" He stands fast like he's about to bolt but he keeps tight hold on her hand and that seems enough incentive to stop him from running full tilt down the hallway. He takes her to a small room off the kitchen that really does look like a nine year olds room with a mess of childish odds and ends around bookshelves and tables, crayon drawings paper the concrete walls and a cage that hold two brown mice. It really does look like a child's room and there's a surreal moment where she remembers that Hedwig is physically nearly thirty and the highlighted incongruity is so bizarre. Hedwig starts showing off his room, explaining everything in minute detail, each drawing and toy gets its moment in the spotlight. Hedwig is so genuine in his earnest explanations that she can't believe that he's faking, he truly is an autonomous entity from the others. Hedwig gets on his knees to show her a picture near to the floor and they sit together. She nods and smiles in the right places as he moves to talk about the tree frogs he had drawn.

"They're _very_ poisonous and, and they're very bright so everyone _knows_ that they're poisonous." The picture is drawn on the back of a pizza box and he puts heavy emphasis on the most important words.

"Wow, I didn't know that." She exaggerates her interest for his benefit and he smiles bright at the attention she pays him. He leans toward her, resting his head on her shoulder, wiggling close to her. The action would be much more graceful if he were nine but in a mans body he's simply too big to be cuddled easily. Hedwig hardly seems to notice.

"You're nice." He says, looking up at her adoringly. "I like you."

"Thank you." She answers with a warm smile, pulling her arms around him. "I like you too." He hums happily in answer, nestling closer to her. They snuggle together, awkward as it is with his size, but it seems like a kindness to just sit with him awhile. She knows that Hedwig doesn't have anyone else to cuddle with. Hedwig continues to babble and talk over the music and cartoons he likes, the animals at the zoo and, in the same way as the others, he talks about the other members of the system. They're their own insular community, a whole commune in one head that had little contact beyond themselves. The connections within the system are complicated as any family group with as many petty feuds as there are friendships. Amelia feels like a lone interloper to a very odd plane of existence, drawn into a complex soap opera that's all roiling in one person.

"Miss 'melia?" Hedwig's lisp garbles her name, "Miss 'melia?" She must have missed a question he asked.

"Yes? Sorry, honey, what did you say?"

"I asked what's your favorite song?" He dips his head back to her shoulder and she strokes his hair, telling him about the music she likes before he takes back over the conversation and she drifts back to her thoughts.

There's an instinct in her to investigate him, to find some explanation for his condition. She could analyze him to death, to theorize about what's going on in his head but there's no reason for it. She could never come up with a solution for him because there's probably no solution, it would be energy expended with no result. And even if she came to an answer for him, what would be the point? It would be an answer she has no use for.

It's easier to just sit with Hedwig and listen to him talk. It's easier to just be kind to them and that's what she tries to do, to the best of her ability.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pizza box frog is canon and it's my favorite part of Hedwig's room. This chapter is sort of just an excuse to excise some head canons about the group so please excuse my rambling!


	6. Reconciliation// This Chapter is NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His heart is in the right place

“Dr. Fletcher!” Hedwig flies into the room, sneakers slamming against the hardwood floor and the force rattles the paintings in the wall. 

“Hedwig, honey, don’t shout.” Amelia calls from behind him and he makes a heel-face turn and runs back across the parlor to Amelia, who just entering the doorway. “Maybe you should take your shoes off so we don’t make a mess.” She instructs, slipping off her flats and setting them by the door. 

“Okay!” he answers brightly, pulling his shoes off in record time and tossing them into the doorway, racing back to the parlor. “Dr. Fletcher!” he yells again as the aforementioned doctor steps into the room. “Hello, Hedwig.” She greets with a warm smile and Hedwig throws his arms around her excitedly. Dr. Fletcher laughs with surprise at his affection but she returns the hug. 

“Hedwig, inside voice!” Amelia calls again, stepping into the room, nearly a minute behind compared to Hedwig’s lightning speed. She sees Dr. Fletcher and she smiles somewhat bashfully the way people do when they’ve been caught scolding their child. 

“Dr. Fletcher, this is Amelia! She’s my friend and she’s really nice!” he whips back to Amelia, so excited to be making introductions to his two favorite people that the speed of his words catches on his lisp and he’s almost unintelligible. “Amelia, this is Dr. Fletcher!”

“Hello.” Amelia greets with a shy little wave. She smooths down the floral material of her skirt somewhat nervously, tucking her dark hair behind her ear. She thinks it’s a little awkward to meet someone else’s therapist, she certainly wouldn’t want someone she knew to meet her therapist. But Hedwig was so excited to go out on the town that she couldn’t say no. Hedwig hadn’t been able to front in public for a long time, he’s too young to be set out in the world unsupervised and they hadn’t known anyone to watch out for him. Being nine in a grown body presents a lot of unforeseen logistical issues and she tries her best to help them out. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Amelia.” The older woman greets warmly as they shake hands. Hedwig interrupts excitedly. 

“Dr. Fletcher, we got ice cream today! And then we went to the zoo!” 

“How nice!” Dr. Fletcher answers enthusiastically and Hedwig beams back at her, sitting down on the couch and swinging his legs. Amelia scuffs the heel of her shoe awkwardly on the floor, playing with the strap of her purse. This really seems awkward, like she shouldn’t be here. 

“I’m just here to drop Hedwig off.” She explains, trying to get across that she wasn’t trying to pry into anyone’s mental health lives. “I’ve got a few errands to run then I’ll be back to get him.”

“How kind of you, I know it had been hard for him to get out much. It was lovely to meet you.” Amelia nods shyly in answer.

“It was lovely to meet you to. I should be getting on my way.” Amelia steps away and kneels in front of Hedwig perched on the couch.

“Okay, honey, I’ll see you in an hour. Have fun with Dr. Fletcher.” He nods with a smile and she smiles back, hugging him. 

“Bye!” he calls, squeezing her tight.

“Bye.” She answers, waving as she steps out the door and he waves exuberantly back.

She comes back in an hour and apologizes for the mess of toys that a sugar-high Hedwig has scattered over the room. He’s still going 200 miles a minute and she has to tell him sternly to hold her hand on the way home to keep him from sprinting a block ahead of her. By the time they reach the zoo however, he’s crashing hard and sleepy, eyes heavy as he sits on the couch next to her. 

“How about I talk to Dennis now, sweetheart?” He nods heavily and there’s a momentary blankness on his expression. Dennis blinks awake, seemingly wholly unaffected by the mammoth amount of sugar in his system. She is still in awe of the physical changes when they switch. 

“Hi.” She greets brightly with a smile. 

“Hello.” He answers, smiling back at her. She loves when he smiles, it seems like an action he’s unaccustomed to but pleased to be performing. She leans against him affectionately, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“I had a nice day with Hedwig.” She offers conversationally, “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing much, same old same old. The waterer in the hippo enclosure has been acting up and I took a look at it today.” They talk awhile like always, dull stories about their week but as they talk she feels a sudden rush of affection for him, a warm glow that makes her heart beat faster. It’s amazing that just sitting together talking about their boring days would make her feel so happy. It feels so absurdly domestic. She reaches up to cup his cheek, still smiling and reaches out to kiss him. Their lips are suddenly together, the kiss long and slow. He breaks the kiss after a long moment, looking utterly shocked, breathing shallow and shaky. She laughs slightly. 

“I’m sorry that was so sudden.” She strokes his close-cropped hair affectionately. 

“What, what was?” He stutters, it’s such a surprise he can barely verbalize it. 

“I like you, Dennis.” She pauses, jokingly rolling her eyes, “I mean, I like all of you guys but I like-like you.” He smiles again.

“I like-like you too.” He answers softly, warm emotion in his voice. 

Want to kiss again?” He nods, still looking happily shell-shocked and they’re connected again, her lips on his, her tongue against his. It all feels so good, her hair smells sweet. Amelia shifts closer, nearly sitting on his lap. The kiss goes from soft and romantic to something more urgent, more sexual, as she straddles her legs around his lap. She starts undoing his shirt, pulling the material off his back, her nails claws.

Something unpleasant in him lurches back, this is too fast, too aggressive, forcing. Memories rise to the surface, this is too much and he pulls away sharply. She’s confused, looking at him puzzled and he blushes.

“C-can we go a little slower?” she smiles, she had forgotten how shy he is. This is probably his first time and she should make it romantic. 

“Of course.” She kisses him gently again, every movement slow and sweet. “Would you unzip my dress?” She asks breathily and he clumsily draws the zipper down her back. Amelia slips out of the dress, pale blue lace hugging her hips and breasts. He pauses a moment, so in awe of her and she smiles back at him. He loves every inch of her, dark eyes and wavy hair, proud eagle nose, pink lips that are now pressed back to his. He runs his hands over the curve of her waist down her ass. She undoes the button on his jeans, slipping her hand down to his hard cock and he moans against her skin as she strokes him. She pauses to shimmy out of her panties and he moves to return the favor, his hand between her legs. 

He strokes the inside of her thigh and he feels her tense for a moment, his fingers brushing a raised line, scar tissue. 

“What happened?” It’s not intrusive, he almost sounds in awe of her, like they have a connection. Amelia sighs, there’s no way they’re having sex tonight. She never does when men notice her scars, she should have shut off the lights before they began. 

“I had some trouble when I was younger.” She opens her legs clinically to show the neat row of healed cuts that cross her inner thigh like marks on a ruler. Amelia has shown enough shocked gynecologists that it’s really no longer an issue.

“Who hurt you?” Dennis growls, he’s so protective of her that she knows he would hunt and eviscerate whoever she says. She smiles a little half-smile as she gets up to put her panties back on, it seems ridiculous to go through all her trauma without any pants on. 

“I hurt myself.”

“You did?” he gets up to sit next to her. Dennis sits very close to her, protective instincts still in full force. This is such a strange conversation to be having half-naked, him in boxers and her just in a bra and panties. 

I have some on my arms too, right here.” She explains it all nonchalantly, raising her arm and just below her armpit is an identical row of scar lines carefully etched in her skin. Amelia has gone through this a hundred times and she’s learned the best way to quash worry in others is to act like none of it phases her anymore. He touches her arm, rubbing his thumb tenderly over her scars. 

“Why did you do this?” he still sounds heartbroken over her pain, even if it had been years ago and she cringes a little. She hates making people worry over her. 

“I was a little mixed up when I was young and this helped me feel better. I had some trouble with my weight too.” This is a euphemism for her former bulimia, scars and throwing up are an often connected but she wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t recognize it. 

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.” Amelia smiles, this is a very kind answer but she still brushes off any talk about it. 

“I don’t cut anymore, I got help and I’m better. Nearly seven years of recovery.” She says with a little fist bump of success. Dennis nods solemnly. 

“I’m sorry.” He repeats.

“I should be going, I know this all kind of ruins the mood.” She gets up, tucking her hair nervously behind her ear and going to get dressed. “Damaged goods are kind of a turn off.”

“No, it’s okay.” he grabs her hand, “I understand. I’ve been hurt too.” 

“You have?” her voice goes soft, a moment of vulnerability. 

“Yes, my mother…” he breaks off like he had revealed too much, punctuating this little bit of information with a shrugging. Amelia nods understandingly

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” She lets the silence fall for a second before slowly sitting down next to him.

“I’m probably more damaged then you.” Dennis continues and she laughs a little, she knows that he’s trying his very best but he makes it sound like a contest. 

“Thanks.” Amelia leans over to kiss him again, testing the waters and he deepens it. It’s not long before she’s out of her panties again and he’s out of his. He slips a condom onto his cock. He’s clumsy with the latex since he’s never done this before but she helps, stroking her fingers over his throbbing cock, rubbing his head up and down.

She’s suddenly on top, straddling him, teasing his cock before suddenly he’s inside her and he gasps, neck arching back. Amelia feels so good, hot and slick and wet as she thrusts him into her. Her breasts bounce and she gasps a long sigh, a blush of arousal blooming pink over her pale skin. She runs her fingers down his chest. 

Sexuality had never felt like this for him, it had always been twisted into something ugly and painful but this is good, this is how it should be. With someone he loves. 

She moans, going faster and deeper and he holds onto her hips to steady her. Dennis feels so close to bursting but you’re supposed to wait, aren’t you? Waiting is the polite thing to do? His knowledge of sex is woefully limited so everything he does is a hopeful guess. He feels her pussy tighten around him and he can’t take it, his back arching sharply, exploding inside her. It’s a white-hot intensity, spots in his eyes as he collapses back onto the bed, drained and dazed. She dismounts and snuggles up close to him with a smile, her curly head resting on his shoulder. 

“How are you doing, honey? She asks, shifting to pull a blanket over them

“Good, very good.” He nuzzles against her hair, pulling her close to him. “How are you?” There’s a touch of urgency, still so very protective of her. 

“I’m even better.” She smiles and sighs sleepily. “Let’s sleep now, okay?”

“Okay.” They snuggle together and times seems to move soft and slow through the haze of warmth and afterglow. It feels so nice, safe and secure, like they’re the only two people in the world. He strokes her hair as he watches her drift off and before long he’s asleep next to her too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My girl wants her bones jumped! She doesn’t want to talk about her trauma! I also realized that this fic has 0 action so I’m trying to mix it up a little. Most of the time they just sit and talk to each other so I'm going to try and have some stuff happen! XD Thanks for reading!


	7. A Turn for the Worst// The Incident at the Zoo

They fall into dating like they had fallen into friendship. It's easy, always calm and quiet between the two of them. They don't go out much, their dates mostly consists of cooking at her house or his and reading or working in silence beside each other. She's thought about taking him out to meet her friends or go bar hopping but she knew he wouldn't like it and it just seems cruel to make him meet so many people. So they talk and watch movies and fool around a few times a week.

She expects to be bored out of her mind by this quiet little relationship but against all odds, she really likes it. It's stable, they can depend on each other. Both of them had spent so much time with no one to turn to that just having someone they can trust is enough.

One evening she gets a phone call, it's late and she wasn't expecting a call at this hour.

"Hello." She answers, balancing the receiver on her shoulder.

"Can you come over?" There's no greeting and there's a touch of urgency in Dennis's voice that she can tell is being as suppressed as possible.

"Sure, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I was just hoping you could come over, can you come soon?" 

"I could be over there in a few minutes." She usually wouldn't drop everything to go visiting but he seems palpably anxious and that's cause for her own alarm. She makes the short walk from her apartment to the zoo, thinking all the while what on earth this could be about.

"Dennis?" she calls and the door swings sharply open and she can tell just by the door swing that things haven't gone well today. There's a nearly unhinged tension in his posture, like he's been pacing back and forth for hours and he's very near to breaking down entirely.

"Hello." She greets with a smile, as if there's nothing wrong.

"Come in." he gestures her inside and she sits on the couch, she watches him carefully and takes into account the twitchy, jerking gestures of his hands and the craziness in his eyes. Something has gone wrong.

"Are you alright, Dennis?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He doesn't sit, not quite pacing but close. He shifts and moves restlessly and it's clear that he's lying.

"Did you need something, honey?"

"I said I was fine!" A sudden burst of anger and an answer that makes no sense in answer to her but he looks to be on the edge of some nervous collapse so she lets it slide. She lets the silent sit for a minute, nodding.

"Are you sure you're alright? Did something happen?" The question brings out the turmoil in him, seemingly torn between insisting he's fine but he did invite her out after all.

"Yes." His teeth are gritted and the answer is forced out of him. He really is pacing now, across the small space of the living room, rubbing his hand over his shaved head nervously. The tension runs uncomfortably high in the room and she tries to suppress her fear and discomfort to keep from making it any worst.

"What happened?" She keeps her tone as even and non-judgemental as she can. She crosses her legs gracefully, hands in her lap. It's a pose her therapist takes and she tries to keep the same air of calm. She watches him pace, heavy boots clomping over the concrete floor. He barely seems to notice her there, lost in his own mania.

"There were these girls at the zoo." He begins feverishly but it seems to be as far as he can go for the moment. She stands, holding her hands out in surrender, trying to not come off a threat. He's so on edge that anything could happen. He doesn't look at her and she very softly puts her hand on his arm.

Her touch elicits an immediate response but not the one she wants. His fist smashes through the drywall and she jumps away with a yelp. She stands a few paces back, frightened by the sudden violence and careful to keep the door in view. He winces at the shock of pain but he smiles at the blood running down his hand, an action that looks even more crazy then the misplaced aggression to the wall. It's a poorly translated expression of emotion, he doesn't know how to match his internal feelings to exterior actions in a way that makes sense so instead she is met with random violence and smiling at the sight of his own blood. Her eyes are the size of dinner plates and she nervously waits for whatever will happen next, too rattled by the surprise of the thing to leave. Her breathing is quick and nervous and he turns to the sound and she stumbles back. This, her obvious fear, seems to bring him back to himself a little bit, blinking at her. She breathes in deeply, trying to return to calm herself and she speaks to him softly and firmly, trying to bring some control back to the situation but if any of this gets any worst she's going to leave.

"Honey, whatever happened you're alright now. It's alright." He looks at her and all the panic is gone, he just looks lost and hurt.

"I-I'm sorry, did I scare you? I'm sorry."

"It's okay, honey." She slowly steps closer, careful. She reaches out to take his hand but she stops at the last moment, not wanting a repeat experience of the last time she touched him "Are we alright?" The question is so vague but he knows what she means, is he okay to touch. Dennis nods and she takes his throbbing hand in hers to inspect the damage. It's a blessing that it's cheap drywall because she's afraid his hand is broken but it looks alright, just red and throbbing with only one relatively small gash across his knuckle and she's sure very painful. He can feel her fingers shaking against his and he feels awful, he scared her.

"I'm sorry." he repeats and it seems like the panic is revving up again but now it's pointed in her direction, worried that he's made her mad or that she'll leave.

"Dennis, it's alright, we're alright. Just sit down and I'll go get some ice on your hands, okay?" He nods and she steps off into the kitchen, getting ice from the fridge and wrapping it in a tea towel before coming back to him.

"There we go, honey, we're alright now." She calms even though he's quiet. She takes his injured hand in hers and presses the ice to his hand, the white cloth blooming red when it touches the cut. She rubs his back, "There we go, all better."

They sit for a little like this before she pipes up again. "Can you tell me what happened?" He sighs

"There were two girls at the zoo and they put my hands up their shirts." Now he says it clinically, detached, the event no longer happened to him. It's just a fact now. Her first instinct is to laugh it off, it hardly seems like an event that merits punching a wall over. Heck, some people pay money for that sort of thing. But she just nods, even if it wouldn't have hurt her, it clearly hurts him and she tries to sympathize.

"I'm so sorry that happened." She answers softly, moving the ice to a different part of his hand and she hopes she sounds sincere, that her judgment didn't show through. 

"Maybe we're crazy, maybe we should just die." There's a heavy sadness in his tone, he looks lost and unmoored on the couch. This event has stirred up other worries and the restraint not to voice them was out the window. This inspires more genuine worry.

"Sweetheart," She keeps her voice soft and kind, rubbing his back, "I don't think you're crazy, honey, and I most certainly don't think should die." He leans slightly close to her and she pulls her arms around him, "There we go." She calms, kissing the top of his head. "It's okay now, you're not crazy, you shouldn't die. I love you." It's the first time she's said I love you and she barely realizes that she's said it until it's been said. He sighs, leaning closer to her, face pressed against her neck. She strokes his hair, "There we go, everything is alright." They sit together for a time and she coos over him, speaking calm and gentle things _it's alright, we're okay, I love you._ In an objective sense, it's sort of saccharine and silly for her to pet and coo over him like this but it's important in the moment. There's such a loneliness in pain, adrift and alone with nothing but a painful memory. But her affection is concrete proof that she loves him enough to hold and fuss over him, that at least one person fond of him. It's a foreign experience for him but it's nice, like he's not alone.

"Hedwig wants to talk to you." He says suddenly

"Do you want Hedwig to talk to me? Or do you want to sit a little longer?" He nods tiredly although he appreciates her that she asked. He wants to be out of the real world.

"It's fine." There's the momentary switch that she's come to recognize and Hedwig is there. She expects some drama since stoic Dennis was so troubled by all this, more emotional Hedwig would be beside himself. In truth, she really is rather worried about it. There are a world of problems that come with a child existing in a mans body and poor impulse control paired with panicked anger is definitely one of them. He would be able to control himself even less then Dennis could.

But he just looks at her and looks away, a heavy knowing expression on his face, as if he's resigned to something.

"It happened again." He tells her, expression not even pained, just hollow and tired. He suddenly looks beyond his years and it hurts her terribly to see him like this. Even if she can't really understand the cause, the effect is clear enough in the lost look on his face.

"I'm sorry, honey. I know it's hard, I'm sorry." She hugs him, pulling him close and he sighs into her hair, leaning tiredly against her. He keeps hold of her, curling his knees up to his chest. She pulls a blanket around him, the warmth and pressure around him is another comfort. Talking to Dennis was short term but she can tell that sitting with Hedwig will be awhile. "There we go, darling, it's okay now."

"Dr. Fletcher said it wasn't going to happen again." There's a quiver in his voice and he hides his face in her shoulder. She kisses the top of his head.

"It's alright now, we're alright, poor little thing." She pulls him tighter to her, a harbor of sympathy and security. They just sit together in silence for a long while and they both doze off together after awhile. She wakes and glances at the wall clock, 9:30. She gently shakes Hedwig awake.

"Wake up, Hedwig. It's time to go to bed." He murmurs something that she can't hear and nuzzles closer. "Come on, honey, wake up now." He blinks awake and he smiles up at her sleepily and for a moment she thinks we're okay again but then he seems to remember what had happened today and his face falls.

"I know, baby." She says understandingly, kissing his forehead. "But it's time to get ready for bed. We're going to put a Band-Aid on your hand and get your pjs on and then get some sleep." She explains the plan for the evening, knowing what they're doing is a kind of control over the situation and she tries to give him as much calm and security as she can. 

"Okay." He answers in a tiny whisper, following her silently back to his room to bandage up his hand. It's unsettling to see him so quiet, usually he's a never ending stream of talk.

"Does your hand hurt?" He nods and she smiles softly, kissing the band-aid on his hand.

"There we go, all better." He nods solemnly again with no other reaction. "Okay, how about I make some hot chocolate while you get your pajamas on?" She's trying to coax him back to his old self but she just gets another tiny okay at the prospect of hot chocolate, something he begged for whenever she came over. This is all just as worrying as how Dennis had reacted, maybe even more so. She steps out a moment, gently closing the door behind her. She puts together the hot chocolate in the kitchen, eyebrows pulled together in worry. She thinks that maybe she'll call Dr. Fletcher tomorrow about all this, its seems awfully concerning. She knocks on Hedwig's door.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah." she steps in and he's curled up tightly on his bed, knees pulled to his chest.

"Scoot over, honey." She sets the mugs on the bed stand next to them and pulls him back up into her embrace. They snuggle together on the bed and she hands him his mug.

"How are you feeling?" He shakes his head a little, holding the mug cupped in his hands.

"Not good."

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

"No." He answers flatly, almost challengingly.

"Alright, we don't have to but if you decide you want to talk, you can talk to me." He nods, sighing heavily and tucking his head under her chin, cheek resting on her collarbone. She sings softly, silly lullabies she learned as a child in a melding blur of Hebrew, Yiddish and English. She knows it's getting late and she needs to be getting home but she sits with him for awhile longer, this seems like all she can offer him. "It's getting late, honey, it's time to get on to bed." she says finally, pulling away from him and helping him under the covers, tucking him in.

"Will you stay?" he asks, an urgency in his tone.

"I'll stay till you fall asleep, okay?" She clicks off the overhead light and sits on the side of the bed, shadows

"Will you sing again, please?" His little voice is so quietly needy, even through his limp, hollow affect he is desperate for comfort. She strokes his buzzed hair gently, calming and he leans his cheek against her hand.

"Of course, honey." She sings again, pitching her voice as soothing as she can, and he slowly falls asleep in the low lamp light. Amelia kisses his cheek before leaving, "Goodnight." 

Amelia walks down the pitch black street back to her little apartment, lost in worry. In the dark of the street, she feels very small, a windswept little thing that is stumbling through the world that she could only offer clumsy kindness too. Amelia knows she had done the best she could with Dennis and Hedwig but it didn't feel like enough and it probably never would. She knows that she can't fix him, she won't be able to untangle the mess of a life that had been before her and she won't be able to set it all in the right direction for the time that's going to come after her. And objectively, Amelia knows that it's impossible to singlehandedly put someone back together but it still feels attainable, like if she somehow found the right combination of words that it would be the cure. But nothing she says works and the failure is so painful. She thinks that she should have stayed there with him but she has work in the morning. And more than that, she knows the danger of getting too deep in the quagmire of someone else's life, even in the life of someone that you love. You can get lost in the chaos of someone else's problems and she tries to keep herself separate from it. 

But that doesn't stop her from laying awake all night, sick with worry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Maybe we're crazy, maybe we should just die" isn't my line, it's a quote from Dennis in the deleted scenes. 
> 
> Isn't it sad that you can't always help people as much as you'd like to? All you can do is your best.


	8. After the Storm// Time to Meet Patricia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His heart is in the right place.

Things are different after the thing they come to only call, “the incident at the zoo.” Amelia comes to visit a few days later with a gift of chocolate chip cookies for the group, just to see how they’re all holding up. But who comes to the door is someone she’s never met before. A woman with a long black skirt and turtleneck sweater. Amelia smiles at the newcomer and the woman smiles politely back but her expression is flat. 

"Oh, hello. Amelia, right?"

"Yes, and who are you?" She asks politely but this new person only smiles, looking her up and down appraisingly.

"I've heard so much about you, dear, but I'm afraid Dennis can't come to visit right now."

"Are he and Hedwig doing alright?" She asks worriedly.

"They're doing much better but they can't talk now. Maybe come by next week." She shuts the cracked open door with a matter-of-fact click.

Amelia visits weekly like clockwork and she learns that it's Patricia that comes to the door so often. The older woman continues to play the role of a very difficult secretary for nearly a month. She always insists on scheduling conflicts with work and therapy and all matter of excuses to keep her out of the house. Amelia doesn't see more than a few perfunctory moments with Dennis where he says things like _oh, yes we're all fine, nothing to worry about, we're all doing very well now._

She finally gets a chance to talk to the others once Patricia realizes that Amelia has no intention of relenting until she gets a chance to see Dennis. Patricia finally lets her inside and allows Dennis to take control. 

“Dennis, is that you?”

“Yes” his answer is characteristically short and for a moment she smiles with relief at seeing him before her tone drops to a conspiratory whisper. 

“Dennis, honey, what is going on? Where have you been?” he smiles as if he knows something she doesn’t.

“We’ve just been busy is all.” A flicker of anger crosses her features and her next words come with a touch of impatience. 

“You’ve been saying that for weeks, what could you possibly have been doing?”

“I’ve just been… busy.” She sighs, taking another tact.

“I’ve been worried about you and Barry and Jade and Hedwig. After what happened…” she reaches out gently touch his arm and he pulls away from her touch, extracting himself away from her suddenly and sharply.

"That's enough." There's a muted rage behind his eyes and barely restrained in his voice. She suddenly gets the impression that she is no longer speaking to Dennis but his voice and demeanor don’t obviously change, it’s an imperceptible shift. "I need you to leave now."

"I'm sorry, Dennis… I should have asked, I’m sorry.”

" _I need you to leave._ " There's a polite venom in his voice, barely restrained. 

"We're alright, honey. I’m not going to hurt you," Amelia holds her hands out like she's offering something, a gesture of surrender.

"You're all alike." He spits, the politeness of the venom is letting up and her words are quickly gaining cutting acidity. "Get out of here, we don't need you."

“Please, Dennis, it’s alright.” She steps a little closer again and again he pulls back, panic in his stance and expression. 

“GET OUT!” she jumps back and takes a moment to collect herself in answer to his outburst. 

Amelia nods, there's an instinct in her to insist on staying and speaking despite all this but he’s so agitated that she just nods. "Alright, I can leave. I’m sorry that I frightened you.”  
“Leave. And stop coming by, no one wants to see you.” There’s no relenting in his voice, condemning as he leads her out the door. The shock of his outburst fades a little as hurt grows in her heart, tears burning in her eyes. 

“Goodbye Den-” she can’t even finish her goodbye before the door slams in her face.

As the door shuts, a cunning smile grows across Patricia’s face as she relaxes back to her natural posture, no longer needing to mimic Dennis’s military stance. Amelia won’t be bothering them anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait but I've been really busy lately. Patricia is finally making her move!


End file.
